A Shepherd in Valoran
by Gallian Squad 7
Summary: Yorick has spent centuries combating the horrors of the Shadow Isles, convinced that the secret to the curse lies at its heart. Even then, his heart has grown heavy as the centuries passed and now his worst fears are confirmed. In order to break the curse and restore the world to balance, he must do what he least expected. Leave the Isles and seek out the Institute of War.
1. Chapter 1

**I've gotten a minor addiction to LoL and I wanted to write something that combines the framework of the old lore with the more current version. Mainly from Yorick's point of view as he discovers that the League exists one day on the Shadow Isles. Should be fun, I hope.**

 **Enjoy!**

Another day, another wreck.

The remains of the stoop were strewn across the jagged rocks like many that had come before it, their rotting corpses nearly indistinguishable from the cursed rock. Already the mist spread through the new kill, seeking souls to take into its grasp and mutate.

The crunch of boots on gravel was the only noise besides the crashing of the waves. Even though the sun was at it full grandeur beyond the isles, the only light here was from the glowing crags and the swaying spot of light that accompanied the boots.

"Hmm… a spark."

The voice that broke the air was as deep and rough as the gravel around it, the light glowing brightly and banishing the mist.

Yorick sighed and picked up his spade. The spark was faint and fading, the Isles seeking to claim the last member of the ship. He had to lay the soul to rest lest it suffer further torment.

It may even provide information on the center of the isles this time. Or the outside world, if he felt curious.

It had been quite some time since a ship had wandered so close, after all.

Yorick's steps carried him over the jagged gravel with the ease born of practice, wood creaking as the tide pushed against the lacerated hull. It wasn't that big a ship now that he had a closer look, maybe enough for a crew of twenty.

Ducking under a timber, Yorick held the tears that allowed him to live amongst the mist up, their light shining into the shadows.

A moment later, he heard a gasping moan from his left.

Shifting the light over, Yorick hummed at the sight before him. The poor seaman had been crushed under several large boards and timbers, blood pulling underneath him. If Yorick had to guess, the man had been crushed nearly flat and his organs with him.

"Thank… the gods!" The man gasped, enough life in him to still speak. "Please… help me!"

Yorick was silent but strode towards the man. It would be impossible to bury him without removing the debris. "…Why are you here?"

The man coughed and spat out blood, words weak but angered. "That… bitch of a woman led us here! Told us there was good fishing to the northwest, but all we found were monsters!"

Yorick pushed one of the timbers aside. "I see… where is this woman?"

"Back on the mainland." The man spat again, somehow keeping his voice steady despite the blood loss. "Said she had to talk to an employer and we could shove off."

Yorick nodded and removed another timbre, sighing when he caught sight of another twisted limb. "What are your burial rights?"

The man hacked a laugh. "It that bad, huh? Well, we seamen are given back to the sea that sustains us. Usually a coin or two on the eyes to pay the toll on the other side."

Yorick reached into his pouch and held up two gold coins. They were useless on the Isles, but he kept them for just this occasion. "…You will fade shortly. I will see to your service but know this."

He turned and kneeled, the man finally seeing Yorick's pale skin and glowing eyes. "I do not know what lies beyond… but it is better than this. Go in peace."

The man took another strangled gasp before stilling. Yorick heard the whisper of the spirits welcoming the man's soul, but Yorick returned to his work. "Worry not, one who was called Terius."

"I will make use of your corpse."

 _-Three Days Later-_

With a grunt, Yorick heaved the last body off the cliff, the thud of meat hitting water coming a second later. After a few days' work, he'd successfully buried the seamen in accordance with their traditions, the souls of the crew disappearing with sighs of relief.

Unfortunately, the Mist Walkers he'd made from their remains came up empty handed. The center of the Isles was shrouded in an intense and powerful magic that Yorick could not hope to pierce on his own.

They also found no trace of Yorick's allies on the Isles. Or his enemies. It was like they'd disappeared into thin air.

Yorick took a seat and began to meditate, the Mist Walkers keeping watch.

 _The new souls… they spoke of a new entity on the mainland. Powerful magicians and summoners coming together to form a judgement entity. A League of Legends. …Unoriginal name._

On the other hand, the League sounded like the perfect place to search out a way to destroy the barrier. A gathering of the world's most powerful magic users was bound to yield something if he could get there.

The problem was just that, getting there.

 _If I leave, who knows what the curse will do. Yet, all that retained their minds have vanished as well. Mayhaps if I leave most of the Walkers, it will at least provide some semblance of a defense before I return._

Yorick took a deep breath and cast his eyes to the sea.

 _That, and I am no sailor. The wood here is gnarled and unlikely to be seaworthy, yet I can feel the temptation to search growing. What do you think, friends?_

The spirits whispered to his mind, most in favor of seeking out the League while a few simply wished to continue their quest. With the majority in favor, Yorick grunted and slammed his spade to the dirt.

"Maiden, heed my call."

A ghostly gasp and the flow of mist revealed the Maiden, her ghostly eyes staring at him, waiting.

"Gather all the Walkers you can. Leave the ones watching the most important areas but send the others to gather wood."

The Maiden tilted her head. **_"You… wish to leave us?"_**

"No," Yorick whispered. "But I must venture forth if the end of this debauchery is to come. My only question is if you will follow me."

The Maiden let out a rasping laugh. **_"Dear Yorick… we will follow you until the day we claim you. No matter the distance crossed."_**

Yorick grunted and waved his hand, banishing the Maiden and sending the Walkers scrambling. "Then do what you will."

"Simply know that I will decide what happens, not the mist."

 _-Three Months Later-_

Yorick stood along the shore where he'd found the stoop months earlier, staring at the simple boat of black wood. It was sturdy and seaworthy, the sailors that stayed with him said as much, but Yorick found it a poor construct compared to even the stoop.

"There is nothing for it." He sighed. "Those of you that wish to come, step forth."

A horde of Walkers shambled forward, far too many to fit on the ship.

"Only fifty may come."

The Walkers appeared disappointed, but fifty of the youngest shambled a little closer.

"Then I leave the rest to you. Trent, you will lead these Walkers, do all you can in my absence."

The oldest of the Walkers bowed to his master, a gurgling growl his response. Yorick accepted the goodbye before gesturing to the boat. "Board, and may this journey prove fruitful."

The fifty Walkers scrambled onto the boat, tucking themselves into every nook and cranny they could find. Yorick in turn boarded and took the rudder, the Walkers on the land pushing with all their might and sending the boat into the sea.

Yorick, drawing on the experience of the sailor souls around him, turned the rudder southeast. The Walkers grabbed crude oars and began to row, the cries of those left behind shrieking from the rocks. Yorick even believed that Trent had pulled out a salvaged handkerchief and blew his nose.

Silly thing, that soul. Then again, Brother Trent had been a silly man.

Yorick shook his head and focused on the waves. The sailors whispered to him constantly, guiding his hands and the boat around sudden rises, squalls, and other dangers for the next several days. At one point, Yorick had noticed that the salt water was hazardous to the Walkers, one large splash melting one into a puddle of goo.

There was little he could do about it though. The water did nothing to him, but by the time he spotted land, his Walkers had been reduced to only twenty-eight.

That, and he had a most terrible sunburn from being exposed to its rays for the first time since the Isles had fallen. It was a small mercy that the boat scraped against sand well after the sun had set, a full moon providing light on the desolate shore.

"This is the mainland." Yorick mumbled, eyes casting over the shore. "It is… full of life…"

While it appeared desolate to the naked eye, Yorick could sense every spark of life that resided within the sands. Every soul that haunted this place whispered to him, but the spirits that had chosen to follow him kept them at bay.

Leaping out of the boat, Yorick waved his hand. "Come with me. We must find… a town, if we are to continue."

The words were strange on his tongue, as there were no towns on the Isles. Not anymore. Regardless, the Walkers scrambled out of the boat and began to sniff, Yorick keeping a tight leash on their minds lest they start trying to eat everything.

Taking a deep breath, Yorick grabbed the stern of his boat and dragged it all the way to fresh dirt, a ball of black mist forming in his hands. "There is no turning back now."

"Consume it."

The ball slammed against the boat and the Walkers went mad, teeth and claws tearing into the wood with wild abandon. Yorick watched the carnage until not a scrap of wood remained, the Walkers licking their chops from the meal.

"I sense the greatest spark to the southeast." Yorick mumbled, eyes turning to the woods that lay beyond. "Come but remain out of sight. I don't need you getting caught in a beast's snare."

The Walkers snarled, but swiftly took to the trees. Yorick followed and set off for the spark, eyes taking in the bloom of life that surrounded him for the first time in centuries. The life could sense the taint he carried, though, as every beast he spotted immediately fled.

Humming, Yorick looked at himself and realized he looked very tattered. If he was going to move through this place unmolested, he'd need something to cover himself.

Growling, his eyes caught sight of light in the woods, laughter entering his mind from one of the Walkers that was closer. It looked like a camp, seven men in all, and what looked like a cage.

Three women and two children were in that cage.

Yorick felt his rage boil. Slavers, the worst kind of scum that the Isles ever dealt with. Yorick had laid more slaves to rest than any others, and their stories always drove him to despair.

Now, he could do something about it.

A mental command sent the Walkers scrambling for the camp, their movements silent as the grave. Yorick made sure to approach slowly as well, if only so he'd be close enough to make them feel fear.

It was all they deserved.

Once he was close enough, Yorick tucked the Tears of Life into his tunic, hiding its light from the world. The inane prattle of the slavers was of little use to Yorick, but it sounded like they were bound for a place called Zaun.

Yorick shook his head and gripped his spade, the blade glowing with an unearthly light.

"Destroy them."

The Walkers screeched, descending on the shocked slavers with a demonic fury. Three of the slavers were torn to pieces before they could defend themselves, the blood and gore splattered across the ground, but the other four were able to push the Walkers away and form a circle.

"What the hell are these things?!" One of them cried. "They don't look like those damn Crag Beasts!"

The Walkers growled and circled the four, their steps silent as Yorick moved forward. "What they are is not your concern."

The slavers looked away for a moment, just long enough for the Walkers to leap forward and drag one into the mob. The remaining three closed backs again, eyes whipping about the clearing as their friend was torn to pieces.

Yorick shook his head and gathered a ball of mist, an under-hand throw sending it straight into one of the slavers. The mist began to eat into his flesh and spread to the other three, their screams soon drowned by the thud of boots. Yorick entered the clearing and frowned.

"You are not worthy of a proper burial, but I will ask all the same. What are your rights?"

The slavers continued to scream, making Yorick sigh. Rather than ask again, he picked up his spade and advanced, the blade shooting forth and impaling one of them. Yorick yanked the spade out, the blade stained crimson, before whirling it around and decapitating the next one.

Sighing, Yorick channeled power through the blade again and raised the spade high. "Do not worry…"

The spade came down and split the last slaver in twain.

"I will make use of your corpses."

With that business done, Yorick waved his hand and watched as the corpses contorted before seven new mist walkers burst from the remains, the flesh turning black and brittle.

A whimper drew his attention and Yorick turned to find the slaves huddled against one side of the cage, clearly frightened. Another wave of his hand sent the Walkers back into the trees, Yorick striding over and kneeling before the cage. These humans were much smaller than he remembered, but he supposed that was the passage of time. "Are you unharmed?"

The women began to scream, and the children began to wail. Something about necromancy and devils from what Yorick could tell. Shaking his head, Yorick took the lock and crushed it in his grip, the cage door swinging open with a creak. "Go, to wherever you call home. The Walkers will not follow you, nor will I."

He stepped aside to prove his point, entering the forest a moment later. He stayed hidden though, waiting for the freed slaves to tentatively exit the cage before they sprinted the opposite way Yorick left.

After ordering one of the Walkers to see them to the forest edge, Yorick continued his journey.

Three days passed in the forest, Yorick slowly brining his Walkers back to full strength as fool-hardy beasts attempted to attack him. After their blood stained the earth, Yorick began to fill his time by making observations of the flora and fauna. It was amusing to hear the spirits and what they thought of this new world.

Especially the older, more cantankerous ones.

Regardless, Yorick finally came upon a town the night of the third day, the light of torches brighter than anything Yorick had yet seen. It appeared to bear a banner that had a blue background on which a white sword with wings sat.

The spirits whispered the name of that banner. "Demacia, huh? So, I am within the borders of a city-state then. Thank you, friends."

Pulling a cloak, he'd made out of a bear's hide around himself, Yorick began to descend the hill he found himself on. The Walkers would be… unwelcome here, so Yorick ordered them to burrow and follow underground.

By the looks of it, the town had a simple wall of logs, apparently not wealthy enough to afford more permanent stone fortifications. Even then, Yorick could make out the shining armor of soldiers upon the walls and by the main gate. Taking a deep breath, Yorick struck a spark and held up the torch he'd made the night before, the soldiers scrambling at the sight of light.

It was amusing to see what were supposed to be disciplined men panic.

Stalking forward, Yorick had to hold in a grin at the pale faces of the gate guards, both boys no older than sixteen. "May I have passage this night? It grows cold."

The guards gulped, one taking the lead. "T-the gates are closed, sir. We will not be opening them until t-tomorrow."

Yorick hummed and leaned on his spade, looking down on the much shorter boy. "I see… are you sure a simple gravedigger cannot be admitted? All it would take was to open the gate a smidge and I'll be on my way."

The other guard's voice was a little steadier, training kicking in. "I'm sorry, sir, but those are our orders. We are being inspected for the next few days and cannot break any rules."

Yorick sighed and shook his head. "Very well then. Would it be ok if I set up a small camp next to the gate? I swear to be no trouble."

The guards looked at each other, clearly conflicted, before the first one sighed. "That, we can allow. Just know we'll be watching you at all times."

Yorick shrugged and strode away, sitting cross-legged and holding his hands before the Tears. The torch was forgotten and allowed to burn away, Yorick's meditation deep enough to ignore everything except the spirits who kept him appraised of what was going on.

Apparently, gossip was already spreading about him. By the sounds of it, the hide he wore was from a particularly vicious species of bear that was difficult to take down and his spade was also a topic of discussion.

But, rather than that, Yorick focused on a trio of sparks in the town that shined brighter than any others. They were concentrated towards the center of town, a mayor's hall if the spirits were correct, and Yorick had a feeling he'd soon meet them.

Or now, considering the sun was rising. Yorick stood with a groan, and went back to the gate, spade entering the ground. "Now may I pass?"

The guards nodded, relaxed from seeing him do nothing but meditate. "If you'll be staying the next few days, the inn's at the square. Has a green dragon on the sign, can't miss it."

Yorick nodded and strode through once the gate opened. His entrance was met with immediate whispers from the populace, as he expected given his cloak and size, but no one bothered him.

It was an experience learning to get through crowds again, though. He'd forgotten after being alone for so long.

Regardless, he entered the square to find several groups of soldiers standing at attention, a tall man in bulky armor with a jeweled sword speaking to them from the steps of the mayor's hall. Yorick also spotted a young blonde woman that had an aura of boredom around her and a short, blue creature that the spirits called a Yordle.

Recognizing their sparks as the ones he'd seen the night before, Yorick did his best to look inconspicuous. While he didn't need to eat, drink, or sleep, it didn't mean he wasn't looking forward to trying actual food.

Rotting air wasn't exactly exciting after enough time had passed.

Spotting the sign, Yorick pushed the door opened to a silent dining room. Everyone was staring at him, even as he stooped through the doorway and made his way to the bar.

The hostess stared at him. "Can I, uh, help you sir?"

Yorick nodded, face hidden in shadow. "I require food and a room for tonight. How much?"

It was strange to ask that question, but Yorick had the spirits feeding him hints and proper lines the entire time. It was how he'd been able to speak the local language in the first place.

"A meal's ten copper." The hostess answered, relaxing at the mundane answer. "A room's a silver per night. Considering your… stature, you'll need a big bed."

Yorick shook his head. "Nay, it will be fine. I will take the meal first, if you don't mind."

He reached into a pouch on his side and pulled out a coin, the metal glowing yellow. "I assume this will cover it?"

The woman gaped at the coin, almost dropping it when Yorick placed it in her hand. "I will take whatever you recommend… and keep the change."

The hostess bowed and scrambled into the back, Yorick taking a seat at an isolated table in the corner of the room. He could hear everyone whispering about him and feel their eyes on him, but he didn't care.

They could believe whatever they wanted about him, it was no issue.

Leaning against the chair, Yorick propped his spade against the wall and settled in to wait. He could smell the food already, but the growls of the Walkers told him they'd want some.

 _Seek out their refuse pile. They're bound to throw your favorites in there but do so only under darkness._

Mental growls showed their compliance, but Yorick was distracted by something else.

Namely the blonde woman that had taken a seat across from him. Blue tunic and pants, gold and silver armor, what looked like a sword at her waist.

It was the woman he'd seen outside. "…Can I help you?"

The woman smiled, the spark of life showing clear in her face. "You're new here, I can tell. No one else I know can take on a bear like that besides Poppy and my brother."

Yorick grunted and pulled the cloak further over his head. "What does it matter to you? You're obviously someone important, too important to muck about a common inn."

"The name's Luxanna." The woman answered, smile still in place. "Though everyone calls me Lux. I saw you walking through the square earlier and that cloak caught my interest."

Yorick sighed and shook his head. "I don't see why you'd come to me just for that. Do you not have duties?"

Lux shrugged as a steaming plate of steak and greens was placed before Yorick. "What about you? I had to get away from my brother's speech, but you don't look busy."

"My duties are to the dead." Yorick grunted, scowling at the tiny utensils he'd been given. "I'm a gravedigger, and unless you have a body to bury, I'm not obligated to do anything."

Lux frowned at him. "Well, that explains the spade. But, what's a gravedigger doing here? The last wyvern attack was further south."

Yorick sighed and simply grabbed the steak, tearing a chunk out of it with his teeth. It was tasty, which for Yorick was practical ambrosia, but he had a bewildered woman waiting on him. "I came from the northwest coast. I'm looking for… information."

Before Lux could ask the next question, the door slammed open and the little Yordle from earlier flew in. "Lux, we got Crag Beasts! There's at least six of them heading for the gate!"

Lux shot out of her seat and gave Yorick a hurried goodbye before following the Yordle out the door. Yorick watched them go, calmly chewing on another bite as the other patrons ran about.

 _Crag Beasts? Do they mean that strange grey thing I ran into two days ago? I wonder if the herd smelled its blood on me and came for revenge._

If they had, then Yorick had only one option. Scarfing down the rest of his plate, Yorick grabbed his spade and jogged for the gate, ignoring the scrambling soldiers and townsfolk. His bulk was enough to push the smaller people aside, but Yorick found his way blocked just before the gate.

It was the man from earlier. "Halt, turn back and make for the Mayor's Hall! We'll deal with these beasts."

Yorick shook his head. "I can defend myself, Sir Garen. Besides… these beasts seek revenge for their fallen, who's blood stains my hand. It is only right I defend this place."

Before Garen could process how the large man knew his name, Yorick pushed him aside and jogged through the gates, ignoring Garen's shouts to stop and Lux's calls of surprise. The Yordle was out there with some troops, a hammer far larger than her in her grip. "Who are you?"

Yorick jogged past her too. He could already see the Crag Beasts charging their way, the grey hides rippling with muscle and tusks shining in the bright sun. Yorick paused after he was far enough from the gate and waved his hand. "Come, tear the ground asunder and feast."

Faint vibrations marked the passage of the Walkers, the ghouls burrowing past the first four beasts. Once under the last two, the Walkers burst from the ground and sank their teeth into the beasts' hides.

The latter two screeched in pain and fury, even as the Walkers dragged them into the pit they'd created. The first four pulled off their assault, intent on helping their herd-mates, but Yorick gathered more mist in hand and tossed it.

The ball fell over the leading beast, mist spreading out and eating at its flesh. With the beasts thrown into confusion, Yorick jogged forward again and slammed his spade against the ground. "Behold the Maiden, she comes for you!"

The Maiden screeched into existence, spectral energy reaching out to one of the unharmed beasts. It screamed in alarm when the energy hit it, the waves tearing at its very soul. The last, seeing its compatriots either dead or dying, turned and charged for Yorick.

Yorick held his ground, even as he heard the rumble of boots behind him to go with the thud of the beast's paws. A moment later, it slammed into him, only for Yorick to barely skid back a few feet, the beast's snout held squarely in his hand.

With a hard grip, Yorick broke its snout, sending the beast into convulsions. Two strikes with his spade rendered it hamstrung and a final blow split its skull, gore painting the ground and Yorick.

Sighing, Yorick went to the whimpering beast that he'd thrown the mist at, it's hide little more than rotting flesh. "Forgive me, brave one. Know that your family shall be reunited in the beyond."

He raised his spade and ended its suffering.

With his work done, Yorick waved his hand and called forth another six Walkers, the corpses shriveling into husks. The sound of drawn steel made Yorick turn to find several dozen soldiers and the three bright sparks standing at the ready. "Put away your weapons, I mean no harm upon you or the villagers."

"That is the mist of the Shadow Isles!" Garen shouted, blade bared and glowing with righteous might. "What are you doing here, abomination?"

Yorick narrowed his eyes. "Despite what you may think, I am not among the dead. I seek to return the Isles to their original state, and it is for that reason I left them."

"Likely story," the Yordle growled. "How the hell do you explain getting here then? The Isles are near Bilgewater, not Demacia's northwest!"

Yorick scowled. "I sailed to the southeast from the Isles, following the words of a survivor I found amongst a shipwreck. The mist is strange, it must have taken me here."

Lux was the only one that appeared to be considering his words. "Hey, Garon, he seems too sane to be like those nuts at the Institute. I don't deny the curse, but he took down six Crag Beasts by himself."

That seemed to calm Garon's zeal. "True enough… very well, I will not attack, but you must surrender yourself to our custody! I have a feeling there'll be people who want to meet you."

Yorick shrugged and waved his hand, the rest of his Walkers bursting from the ground in a perfect circle around the soldiers. "Forgive the encirclement, but I had to be careful. Simply know that my Walkers come with me no matter what, that is my only requirement."

The Yordle appeared unnerved by the snarling ghouls, but Yorick's next words calmed her. "They are under my direct command. Upon the Isles, they may do as they wish, but I've asked their cooperation while on the mainland."

Garen looked like he didn't enjoy making that concession, but a shared glance with his compatriots made him nod. "Very well but know that they will be put down if they attack."

Yorick nodded and placed his spade across his back. "Then lead the way, Garen Crownguard."

Garen grit his teeth but turned and barked at the soldiers to pull back. As they did so, Lux walked up to Yorick. "How'd you know his name? I never told you."

"The spirits say many things," Yorick mumbled. "And this land is rife with them. The Yordle is named Poppy and you are Luxanna Crownguard. Tell me, have you informed your brother of your true abilities?"

Lux stiffened, gaze flicking about before glaring at Yorick. "Do not mention that in public ever again! My family would turn on me if they learned the truth!"

Yorick stared at her before starting for the town, the Walkers following. "I fear you give them too little credit."

"At the very least, your brother would never betray you."

 _-Night-_

Yorick's words had apparently shaken Lux quite a bit. The woman had been quiet, which even Yorick could tell was strange, the entire day and been following orders without question or complaint.

Frankly it had her brother quite worried.

"What did you say to her?"

Yorick looked up from the simple cot he'd been given. It was little surprise he'd been placed in a cell, but it amused him to see the guards attempt to stuff the Walkers into two cells. The souls simply started acting silly as they wished to provoke the stoic soldiers.

Oh, to be young.

"My words to her are of no concern to you." Yorick grumbled, sharpening his spade. "Besides, I thought a consummate soldier would appreciate her orderly demeanor."

Garen banged on the cell bars, making Yorick look at him. "That is exactly why I'm concerned! Luxanna may follow orders, but I must shout her down to do it and bear her tease the entire way! Having her demure is a sign of the apocalypse!"

Yorick let out a dark chuckle. "Truly? Then maybe my mission will soon be at an end."

Garen growled. "Answer me! As both her commander and her brother, I must help! It is my duty!"

"Duty," Yorick grumbled. "Is that so? Tell me, Garen Crownguard, what is more important to you, duty or family?"

Garen's answer was instant. "Duty, and my family understands that."

Yorick smiled grimly. "Then you and I are the same. My duty and my cause are to end the Shadow Isles, to return the world to where the dead die peacefully and the living live. I have committed much horror in pursuing that goal, heard the wails of the dead as I raised their flesh. Have you done such horrors in the name of the cause?"

"Would you follow it, even if your own sister became a casualty?"

That question rendered Garen mute.

Yorick felt pity for the man. "Committing oneself to a cause is noble, but it is a lonely road. If you would hear the advice of one walking the earth alone for far too long, hold that which is dear close. You never know when it will be snatched from you and all that will be left is a shell pursuing a goal for no other reason than to make it worth the suffering."

Yorick went back to his spade. "And even then, who's to say you will find if fulfilling?"

Garen didn't speak again, Yorick scraping his spade a few more times as Garen left. Then, he sighed. "Go and see what comes of my words. Be discreet."

The sound of moving earth just barely reached his ears, one of his Walkers tunneling through a small gap and into the wall. Yorick closed his eyes and felt his vision go to the Walker, seeing nothing but darkness for a moment before light bloomed.

The Walker was keeping to the rafters, but Yorick was able to focus its senses into hearing what was below. Garen appeared to be thinking on something and he was walking towards the soldiers' quarters.

The Walker followed as well, ignoring the drinking contest Poppy had gotten into. Once they were in the quarters, Yorick watched as Garen made his way to one of the doors and knocked. "Luxanna, I need to speak with you."

"I told you to call me Lux." Came Lux's muffled reply. "Besides, what could it be? I did everything I was assigned already."

Yorick hummed, seeing Garen work his jaw in contemplation. Would the man speak to his sister? They didn't seem particularly close from what Yorick had seen of them, but who knew with humans?

"It's important." Garen sighed, rubbing his temple. "Please, I simply need a few minutes."

Silence stretched for a moment before the door was unlatched and opened. The Walker seized the opportunity and tunneled through the wall over the door, making sure to be quiet and keep debris from falling to the floor.

Once in the wall, it forced its head through a crack and almost screeched at the bombardment of light that the room held. Thankfully, it could still hear just fine, but that was a shock.

"What is it brother?" Lux asked after taking a seat on her cot. "You're usually too busy practicing to talk."

Garen leaned against the wall and sighed. "Luxanna… no, Lux. I've wanted to ask you something for some time, but I was convinced it wasn't true."

Lux's eyes widened. If Yorick had to guess, this was the first time her brother had called her that. "…What's this about?"

Garen looked Lux dead in the eyes. "You don't actually use that sword, do you?"

"You have magic."

The room was silent, Yorick and the Walker waiting to see if either side would make a move.

"…Yes."

It was a whisper, but that was Lux's voice. Yorick didn't know the full story, but the spirits were wailing loudly at that confession. Apparently, magic was heavily frowned on in Demacia.

How ignorant.

In either case, Garen and his sister remained silent for a time. At least, until Garen pushed off from the wall. "You can control it? Used it in service of the realm?"

Lux nodded twice, looking to the floor as if awaiting an execution.

Garen strode forward and looked at her. All was silent again before Garen reached out and ruffled her hair. "Then there is no reason to hide it. I am… disappointed that you did not believe I would take it well, but it's my own fault for so decrying it in front of you. I beg forgiveness."

Lux started shaking, sniffles in the air. "…That's not… what I was expecting at all… I thought… you'd kill me…"

Garen smiled for the first time Yorick had seen and took a seat next to his sister. "I will kill mages who use their magic for horrors and evil, Lux, but that's not you. I may not have been the best brother in our youth, but I do care, and I do know you. There's a big difference between a Noxian sorcerer and you, and I'm not so blind as to not realize it."

Lux's sniffles soon turned to sobs, her hands hiding her face. Garen wrapped an arm around her shoulders and rubbed her back, letting her work it out.

Yorick, satisfied, ordered the Walker to withdraw and return to the cell.

It did what was left of his heart good to heal a soul this time.

 _-Morning-_

When Yorick saw Lux that day, the woman was more radiant than ever. "Control your magic, lest it burn the walls."

Lux giggled, and the glow dimmed. "Sorry, I just wanted to thank you. You seem like a grump, but there's something soft in there."

"I simply do not wish the young to repeat my mistakes." Yorick grumbled. "It was only yesterday I remembered laughter, hearing the children play as once was on the Isles. I have done much horror to forget that sound… yet I still wish to do what is right, if I can."

Lux nodded and held out her hand, a clear gem in her palm. "Well, no matter the reason, I still want to say thanks. Take this, I think you'll like it."

Yorick frowned but reached through the bars and took the gem. "…What is this?"

"A scrying gem." Lux chirped. "I use them to keep in contact with my superiors on missions. It can cross all of Valoran and still be crystal clear."

Her smile softened. "I don't know why, but you just seem lonely. I was hoping that you'd chat me up occasionally, be friends and all that. It's the least I can do."

Yorick stared at her but placed the gem into his sack. "You earn your title, Lady of Luminosity. I'm reminded that there is good in this world by your actions."

He chuckled darkly and shook his head. "And hopeless naivety too. But, morbidity aside, you are kind. Were there more of you, the Shadow Isles may never have come to be."

Mist gathered in his hand. "And I would never have had to accept its curse."

Lux frowned but could tell he would speak no more. "Well, we'll be leaving soon. Have to make High Silvermere in a few days, so I hope you don't mind riding."

Yorick stood and picked up his spade. "I will walk. My body is cursed with undeath, it is why I have been careful not to touch anyone. If I sit upon a horse, it shall become a specter. Besides, I'm faster than I look and do not tire."

Lux looked unsure but shrugged. "Alright, if you say so. You'll be with Poppy, she can smack the hell out of anything that comes at us."

Yorick grunted. He hadn't seen much of the Yordle, but perhaps he could gain some insight on the road.

The more allies he could find, the better. That was his goal for now, only fortune allowing his conscious to align with it.

 _-Four Days Later-_

Yorick had never met someone so self-deprecating in all his unnatural life and he'd met the spirits of comedians.

This Poppy girl had deflected every word of praise or even grudging encouragement with either a humble word or outright laughter. Even when Yorick had tried to be helpful and point out that the hammer would crush anyone save its champion, Poppy had simply countered that she'd been trusted to find said champion. That's why it weighed nothing in her grip.

Yorick simply stopped trying. If the girl couldn't see what was before her, who was he to argue?

Beyond that, they traveled through several towns on their trek, all under cover of night. Yorick may have proved himself to the party, but that didn't mean his Walkers would be welcomed.

As such, when they arrived High Silvermere, Yorick kept them underground.

"So much… white." Yorick muttered when he got a good look at the city. The entire city appeared to be formed from marble and it looked like a monument stood on the opposite side that appeared even whiter and outlined in gold.

"Oh damn." Poppy muttered, her lantern clanging as they pulled to a stop. "Galio's in."

Yorick didn't have time to process that before the monument began to… move.

"Oh, damn indeed."

Yorick's flippant mutter was silenced by the rumble of stone as the monument leapt into the air and came crashing down onto the land before them, great wings of gold framing a sculpted body a hundred-foot tall.

"Garen, Lux, Poppy." The statue greeted. "Who's the tattered monk?"

Yorick continued to stare, wondering as to how such a golem existed. While he was doing that, Garen called to the golem. "This is Yorick, a gravedigger. He helped defend one of the border villages from a Crag Beast attack and has accompanied us this far."

Galio, for this had to be the one Poppy had mentioned, leaned down to get a better look. "Really? …He's got magic around him… Shadow Isle!"

A great fist reared back, but Garen shouted for Galio to stop. To Yorick's disbelief, it did.

"He is alive, Galio." Garen called to the frozen golem. "This man came to the shore and killed both slavers and Crag Beasts. His curse is a means to worry, but do you think we'd have brought him if we were not confident?"

Galio's face cracked into a grimace, the golem relaxing its fist. "Yeah… good point. Well, where's he going? The sooner he's out of here the better if you ask me."

Yorick chose then to be his own advocate. "I seek the ones called the League. I have heard tell that they have magical powers beyond comprehension and it may hold the key to destroying the curse."

Galio's face cracked again, this time forming a thoughtful frown. "Ah, you're like Maokai and Kalista then. Well, you'll have to pass through the capital first, and if Garen's taking a liking to you, then we may have a new champion soon."

"Let's not jump to conclusions." Lux interjected. "Besides, shouldn't you get back to posing? The city's probably gone into a panic with you moving like that."

Galio grimaced and bid them farewell before taking to the sky once more. One it was gone, Yorick hummed. "Impressive to see a golem of that size and intelligence. Demacia truly holds mighty champions."

Garen and Poppy swelled with pride, but Lux grew a smile and burst their bubbles. "Well, lots of places do. Piltover has some real strong fighters and so does Zaun and the Feljord. Much as any of us hate to admit it, our rival state Noxus has some toughies too. Garen over there knows that too well."

Yorick would swear on every grave he'd ever dug that Garen had blushed. It was tiny, nearly imperceptible, but Yorick wasn't born yesterday. Or the day before that… or before that…

Before he lost himself in that quandary, Yorick began to walk again. "We do little standing here. Dawn approaches and we must pass through this place."

That spurred the others on, the gates opening immediately when the guards caught sight of the famous Demacian warriors. There were few out this early in the morning, but Yorick had to stop and wait for the others several times.

It appeared that even these people had their limits.

"If you must rest, do so." Yorick eventually sighed as they entered what he guessed was the military district. "You do me and yourselves no good otherwise."

If he didn't know any better, the Demacians looked relieved. Yorick mused on that for a moment before a screech sounded overhead and he ducked. The sound of feathers and something flying went past his ear, the sight of a blue bird soon greeting him. "What are you?"

"An Azurite Eagle." Someone answered, a woman in blue robes outline with gold walking out of a building. "And his name is Valor. Garen, Lux, Poppy, good to see you. Who's big and grim?"

"My name is Yorick, a gravedigger." Yorick sighed, he was getting tired of repeating the introductions. "And you are?"

"Quinn," the woman answered, pushing brown hair from her eyes. "Though don't think I'm here all that often. Just getting the old armor fixed up."

Garen dismounted and crossed his arms. "It's the only reason you ever enter a city in the first place. Fortuitous timing though, I heard you were out on a mission again."

Quinn shrugged, not moving as Valor landed on her shoulder. "Yeah, well, it wasn't anything big. Enough that command needs to hear it, but not before I get everything fixed. What about you guys, everyone looks tired."

"Not something you hear often with Garen." Lux agreed. "But we've been riding four days straight. We just need to catch a nap and some food before heading out again."

Quinn tilted her head before shrugging. "Well alright then. Barracks isn't full right now, so you guys should be able to find some beds easily. Valor and I are going to see if we can catch something, so we'll see you later."

Quinn set off, Yorick tracking her until she was out of sight. "A powerful bond. Her past must be tragic."

No one deigned to respond to that, so Yorick strode forward once more. "I shall wait by the gates and meditate. Come find me when you're ready."

Garen looked to protest, but Lux and Poppy gave him a look and he backed off. Yorick was thankful for it as he needed to meditate. The sheer amount of souls was starting to get annoying and he needed to center himself.

Climbing to the top of a wall, Yorick took his position and cleared his mind, focusing on the faint beat of his heart and the glow of the Tears around his neck. Even as the sun rose and the bustle of people filled the air, Yorick continued to meditate.

"Hey, what are you doing here?"

Until a giant golem interrupted him. "What do you want, construct?"

Galio stared down at him, the golem's presence drawing many stares. "Well, no one's with you and the sun's out. Kind of thought you'd catch fire when that happened."

Yorick chuckled darkly. "I suppose you'd have preferred that, but no. I simply gain a sunburn that heals within a day."

Galio frowned, not liking Yorick's dour air. "Come on, lighten up! I'm just trying to be friendly."

"I hear the voices of the dead." Yorick stated, making Galio's eyes widen. "They wail and whisper in my ears at all times. Stories and tales long forgotten or wished hidden, they tell me, and I guide them to the beyond. It is… stressful, as you can imagine, so I meditate to clear my mind."

Galio appeared to be thinking on that, so Yorick continued his meditations.

Until the golem flopped on the ground across from him and took the same pose. "What in the nine hells are you doing?"

"Giving this meditation thing a shot." Galio said with a laugh. "Can't be a hero without learning new things, right?"

Yorick snorted. "A hero, huh. Well then, do you even understand how meditation works? It requires absolute focus and silence."

"I'm a statue." Galio drawled. "Silence and stillness are my thing."

Yorick didn't believe it for a second.

Regardless, he humored the golem and returned to his meditation. Surprisingly, he wasn't interrupted… at all. In fact, it wasn't until he felt a tap on his shoulder that he opened his eyes to see Poppy staring at him. "Yes?"

Poppy looked very exasperated. "We need to go, now. Galio's been sitting like that for ages and he won't move unless you do."

Yorick found it amusing that the people gave the golem a gender, but a quick glance back and down showed why they needed to leave.

That was a lot of people meditating.

"I never expected to start a cult. At least… not today."

Poppy did not appreciate that flippant remark, a punch to his shoulder proved it.

Yorick then silently swore to beware Yordles. They had more strength then their size belied.

 _-Three Days Later-_

"That… is a sight to behold."

Yorick's observation made the Demacians swell with pride. The capital gleamed in the noon-sun, the sounds of life filling the air to a degree that Yorick never imagined possible.

Nor the sheer volume of souls that filled the city, their whispers and wails nearly deafening. This city, for all its splendor, held much death.

"Our last stop," Garen began, "is to report in. The king will likely wish to know of your presence considering your mission, but I warn you the populace is not all that accepting. Also, your Walkers will need to see the light, the walls extend deep underground."

Yorick snorted, more amused than concerned. "Then I am to make this a pageant? Shall I throw on silks and my regalia? Perhaps give my Walkers some hats and robes?"

Garen glared at him, but Lux started chuckling. "You have one snarky sense of humor. Then again, it's only right to be morbid when the dead are all you can talk to."

Yorick raised a brow, though she could not see it under his cowl. "I suppose… Regardless, I assume one of you is going to inform your king of this? It would be best if your forces did not try to kill me, it would end badly."

Everyone could agree to that, so Garen spurred his horse off. Lux and Poppy passed the time by pointing out and explaining landmarks to Yorick, but the gravedigger sighed when a simple man in sun-steel plate jogged up to them. "Lady Crownguard, Ms. Poppy, we're ready to receive your guest."

"Guests." Yorick rumbled, a gesture making his Walkers burst from the earth. There were a little over sixty now after they'd taken care of some bandits on the way here. "And I have been told they must be in sight. Do control your citizens."

The man fumbled for his blade but paused when he saw Lux and Poppy standing amongst the Walkers unmoved. In fact, Poppy was thumb-wrestling one of them. "V-very well. We, uh… hope you have a pleasant stay."

Yorick was grandly amused, but ordered the Walkers into lines, his plan already filling their minds. He could hear their own cackles of glee at the idea. "Lead the way."

The man shakily nodded and escorted them down the highway, the grand gates of the city opening with the sound of chains. As it pulled open, an explosion of sound met Yorick's ears as the crowds within wondered at the line of soldiers that had cut off the central road.

Then came cheers as Lux and Poppy entered the gate, Yorick remaining in the shadows with his Walkers for a moment. Then, when the women were far enough ahead, he stepped from the shadows.

To almost immediate jeers.

Yorick expected as much. His appearance was that of a specter and his clothes leaked the black mist of the Isles for all to see, especially the great tablet that he bore across his back. Then there were the Walkers, five lines of ten and two of six formed behind him.

The citizens cried in revulsion and shouted their hatred, apparently believing Yorick had been brought to the city for execution. After all, his abilities were sorcery, and that deserved death.

Yorick though, simply ignored them, even as fruit and vegetables began to fly. He caught a few morsels and took a bite, not caring if it was rotten or not. The Walkers did the same, leaving the street as tidy as when they'd arrived despite the volley of produce.

Once the populace realized that wasn't going to work, they returned to shouting insults and threats. These redoubled after Yorick strode past the execution platform, the citizens realizing he was being escorted to the Citadel of Dawn.

At this point, Yorick held up his spade and the Walkers stood straight. With a steady beat, Yorick tapped the ground as he walked, the Walkers goose-stepping in rhythm. It was quite a spectacle to see the ghouls march with a precision that only the best units could hope to match, but Yorick silently sneered at the dumbfounded faces of the citizens.

 _Not all magic is evil, nor are all curses detriments._

He shook his head of the errant thoughts and kept going. The Citadel of Dawn was quite the sight, though not as blinding as its name implied. It was mostly cast in greys and dark white, making it easier for Yorick to look at, along with lush gardens and delicate arches.

It was almost disgusting, the sheer amount of artistry on display.

The interior was equally splendorous. Silver walls and floors shined in the light while blue and gold cloth gave the palace an air of nobility and grace that belied the strength of its walls.

Yorick was just glad it didn't blind him, not when he had tense guards on all sides that didn't appreciate his little parade. Eventually though, he caught up to Lux and Poppy, the pair leading him into a grand antechamber that held a long carpet of, you guessed it, blue. There was also a great banner that sat behind a silver throne with the crest of Demacia blazoned across it.

Finally, his eyes were drawn to those that stood or sat below the banner. Garen was there, as were Poppy and Lux in different spots, along with several others he didn't recognize.

Starting on the left, there was a woman in white armor with a rapier at her side, black hair hiding one of her eyes. Next to her stood a man in golden armor with a long ponytail and even longer jeweled spear. Then, there was another woman with long blue hair that had a strange instrument before her.

On the right, it started with a woman in a body-suit with red goggles and black hair, her gaze boring into Yorick from across the vast room. Next to her stood a tan man with dreadlocks and silver armor, strange devices at his waist… wait a moment.

"Lucian." Yorick muttered, voice unheard by the audience. "Poor fool."

Moving on from the mourning soul, Yorick found a strange woman with purple skin outfitted in scarlet and gold armor that resembled a dragon. The Walkers were cautious of her, which confirmed his suspicions. She was a half-dragon, a rare existence.

Finally, there were the two in the center. Next to the dragon woman was a tall man, dressed in golden armor that looked like scales with a strange spear of spines propped next to him. Next to the blue haired woman was another tall man dressed in white armor with blue robes, a ceremonial sword at his waist.

Yorick sensed wisdom in this man, his eyes showed it, but none here knew the burden of age quite like Yorick did. No one did.

"Yorick, the gravedigger." The man in blue began. "I am King Jarvan Lightshield III of Demacia. Garen Crownguard, our foremost warrior, has vouched for you and your horrid magics to meet with us. Speak, so that we may know how you won his trust."

Yorick did not bow, as was proper. Instead, the blade of his spade cracked against the floor and he stood straighter. "Hail, King Jarvan III. I am Father Yorick of the Blessed Isles, so ordained by Father Rety in the year 85 A.P, the first and last of my order. I come seeking the knowledge of the League so that I may break the curse of the Shadow Isles."

Mutters broke out among those present. 85 A.P, by the modern calendar, was nearly a millenia ago!

"You speak of immortality!" The man in yellow barked. "Only the specters bound by the League have existed for so long!"

Yorick held up his pendant, the Tears glowing. "The Tears of Life sustain me, the last remnant of the old well at the center of the Isles. I simply wish to end the curse, so that the dead may die and the living live."

"Then why do you have ghouls!" Lucian boomed, a device appearing in his hand. "You enslave souls, just like those monsters!"

Yorick gazed at the man, eyes steady. "I do not deny that I have committed horrors in the name of ending the curse. Nor do I deny that I have used it to my advantage. But I swear, before all here, that I do so because it is necessary."

His voice grew low. "Even so… it is hard to have a heart in the land of the dead."

Lucian was incensed, but the dragon woman grabbed his device and pushed it down. "Not now, Lucian. Tell me, Yorick, are those souls truly enslaved?"

"I am no tyrant," Yorick sighed, gesturing to where two of the Walkers had started arm-wrestling. "These souls act on their own Ms…?"

The woman nodded. "Shyvanna, servant of Prince Jarvan IV. This is Lucian, our expert on the undead, and Lady Vayne's next to him, she's a demon hunter."

"Demon's eh?" Yorick grunted. "I've run into a couple of those. One took the shape of a woman, tried to seduce me. She wasn't laughing when I took off her arm."

Vayne stiffened, but the king called Yorick's attention back to him. "Then you are here only temporarily? How do we know you're not here to seed the Black Mist?"

"You don't," Yorick stated. "But I can guarantee that is not what I'm doing here. Would I parade my Walkers if that was what I wished? Have them clean the streets of the refuse your citizens flung at me? Nay, I simply seek knowledge."

The king and what must've been the prince in the yellow armor leaned together and began a discussion. Seeing this, Yorick turned his attention to the last new faces. "Who are you three?"

The man snorted and shouldered his spear. "Xhin Zao, protector of the throne. Don't make any wrong moves and you won't fear my spear."

"I'd welcome it." Yorick quipped before looking to the woman in white. "I assume you're a duelist by the blade?"

She nodded. "I am Fiora Laurent, the so-called foremost duelist in Demacia. I mean no offense when I say this, but you do not appear to be a worthy foe to challenge."

Yorick grunted. "I was fighting abominations when your line didn't exist. Just because I use a spade does not make me an easy foe."

He turned his attention from the calculating Fiora and met the gaze of the blue-haired woman. "You… are mute, are you not? The spirits speak fondly of you, your music calms them."

Three notes filled the air, the spirits translating. "Yes, your reach is more helpful than you realize. Many here claim your music has laid others to rest, so I must urge you to continue. I may do the same, but… there will come a day where it is too much, and others must take up the banner."

He shrugged. "Of course, if the curse is broken, then it becomes moot. I hope that will come Sona Buvelle, for I wish to see such majesty in action."

Sona blinked, clearly shocked, as was the rest of those present. "You… can speak with the dead?"

Yorick turned back to the king. "Yes, and they speak to me as well. Whispers, wails, it doesn't matter, I hear them no matter the time or place. Secrets, stories… I hear it all."

He held out his hand to forestall the king's next words. "No, I will not share those secrets. Many are irrelevant as time has passed and those that are relevant, you would not want shared. Now then, may I be granted passage to the League? I… dislike this formality."

King Jarvan huffed. "I merely ask that you… demonstrate your power. I wish to understand what you can do before allowing passage."

Yorick sighed, greatly annoyed. Unfortunately, his army was back on the Isles, so he had little choice if he wanted to get where he needed to go. "Very well… what are your rights?"

"Why do you need to know that?" Prince Jarvan asked. "Do your power not simply raise the dead?"

Yorick shook his head and gripped his spade. "I am a gravedigger."

"It is only right that I give those whose bodies make my Walkers a proper burial."

Yorick allowed his conviction to show this time. By the looks of it, he'd won some respect with that showing.

Perfect, maybe he'd won a few more allies and expedited this process.

"I still require a demonstration." The king muttered. "But I can tell you're genuine in your conviction. Our people are buried in a shroud of wool with a banner of the kingdom draped over them. The family and friends then pray for the deceased and light incense to ease the spirit's journey."

Yorick nodded. "Very well. Lead me to the deceased."

 _-Execution Platform-_

"I said the deceased, not the soon to be deceased."

Lux laughed awkwardly, standing with Yorick off to the side. The gravedigger had been given all the vestments he'd need to bury the body, but he hadn't expected to watch a coward die this day.

As the woman's crimes were listed, Yorick felt himself glance around. All those who'd been in the antechamber were there, even the prince and king, and he could tell the crowd was confused by their presence.

After all, while executions were rare, having so many prominent figures in attendance was even stranger.

Sighing, Yorick stoically watched the headman's blade fall and the coward's head roll, cheers soon following. Shaking his head, Yorick took the steps two at a time and kneeled next to the body. Mutters and jeers met his appearance, but Yorick ignored them.

Mist gathered in his hand and he used it to staunch the bleeding stumps. The mist flowed down and swiftly consumed the blood, Yorick gathering the body in his arms and marching from the platform.

The champions and royals followed him to a small graveyard, the coward to be buried in an unmarked grave. Once there, Yorick placed the body on the ground and raised his hand.

Spectral energy raced through the body before coalescing into a new Walker, the ghoul bursting from the ground as the body withered to a husk. Yorick heard mutters again, but he took the cloth and wrapped the body gently, almost tenderly.

To the disbelief of those seeing him doing his job for the first time, Yorick's care and attention to detail was astounding. He even draped the banner across the body in a picture-perfect manner before laying it into the grave.

He then struck a match and lit the incense before placing his hands before the Tears and praying silently. After several moments of silence, Yorick relaxed and began to shovel dirt into the hole, filling the grave within ten minutes. "It is done."

He turned to his audience. "I trust this is enough to grant me passage?"

The king had a severe frown on his face before he nodded. "Yes, it is."

"Though I hope you don't mind if I send a few with you."

Yorick took a dep breath, already seeing several stepping forth to volunteer.

Damn it.

 _End._

 **I think that's a good spot to stop. The purpose of this fic alongside the next chapters is to show a Yorick that comes in super late, as in he's the most recently introduced champion in this version, interacting with the other champions. While he may seem OOC alongside some of the other champions, these are ultimately my interpretations.**

 **Yorick is, in my mind, ultimately a good man that has done horrible things and grown tired from it. Hopefully that is conveyed well as he attempts to find that which he seeks.**

 **Also, the Institute is basically a story vehicle. Otherwise, Yorick has no reason to leave the Isles. That won't be explored too much, but I do hope you all enjoy!**

 **Hopefully I didn't screw something up with the lore XD.**


	2. The League

**Alright, why not make another chapter today? I hope everyone enjoys this next part!**

 _The League_

Yorick ended up staying in Demacia's capital for three days.

All throughout, he attempted to remain within the rooms given to him and ignore the world at large. His determination to find an answer with the League had not diminished, but those he'd met upon arrival to the great city had been… persistent in their attempts to speak.

Namely one man with dreadlocks and a woman an etwahl.

 _Strange name for an instrument._ Yorick mused as he exited his rooms. The sheer opulence of this palace had made the former monk nearly ill, so he was glad to be leaving.

"Yorick, my man!" Lux greeted as she sauntered up, the usual accompaniment of guards behind her. "How're you on this sunny day?"

Yorick glowered at her. "Must you be so energetic, even this early? The sun has yet to crest the horizon."

"Who else is going to be the optimist, Garen?" Lux drawled. "Besides, I have to be a morning person. Anyone who gets through training ends up one."

Yorick grunted and gestured for Lux to guide him. Three days wasn't enough time to memorize the castle's layout. "Have they at last decided who will be… accompanying me?"

Lux chuckled, catching the exasperation easily. "Yes, they have, and don't worry, it's not everyone."

Yorick sighed in minor relief, his spade cracking against the ground to the summon the Walkers. Lux greeted the ghouls, with them giving affectionate, for them, gargles back. The guards remained stoic, but Yorick could tell they just wanted to kill the ghouls.

 _Just try it, they'd rip you to pieces._

Storing the thought, Yorick followed Lux, the woman happily greeting every guard and servant she passed. It was only Yorick's depressing presence that kept them from greeting her back, but the looks of fear made him chuckle.

Regardless, they arrived at the castle entrance to find four horses saddled and ready to go. In full regalia, no less, if the tassels, cloth, and steel meant anything. "I remember requesting nothing like this when asked if I minded an escort."

Garen grunted from atop his steed. "You are going to the League, Yorick. Their rules require we're easily identifiable, thus the regalia."

Yorick dug his heels into the dirt, relishing the feel after being on stone for days. "I suppose there is no choice, if that's the case. Now then… who's coming with?"

Garen gestured to the other horses, Lux taking one while attendants held the others steady. "Lux will be coming with us, as you might expect, and I have business with the League as well. The others will be Sona… and Lucian."

Yorick groaned and spat, the Walkers hissing in disbelief. "My harassers shall be with us this journey? How do I know Lucian will not simply purify me one night?"

Garen shifted, his heavy armor clanking together. "He's sworn an oath to do no such thing, as you are a guest, begrudging as many are to say it. The fact you appeared upon the platform and were not slain there has everyone from commoners to the noble houses up in arms."

Yorick smirked, strangely amused. "I didn't think a simple gravedigger would warrant such unrest. Mayhaps that is why Lucian has been chosen? To reassure the quivering calves?"

Garen glowered at him, Yorick knowing he hit the nail on the head. Lux cleared her throat from her steed and grabbed the two large men's attention. "So, are we going to get on the road soon, or are we dealing with the mid-morning crowds?"

As if summoned, the last members of their party exited the palace, king and prince at the front. "Ah, I see we are ready to be off."

Yorick bowed his head to the king. "Your Majesty, I apologize for the trouble my presence has caused. Though… I do not apologize for my Walkers. Do make sure that your soldiers and servants heed the warnings of guests, lest they suffer worse than bruised egos."

The king harrumphed and adjusted his cape. "That aside, we wish to know if your search turns up any answers. Removing the Black Mist from this world would make many lives easier."

Yorick nodded but turned to stare at Prince Jarvan. "Hmm… before I depart…"

Jarvan glared at Yorick, hand going towards the spear on his back as Yorick strode forward. The gravedigger was slightly taller than the prince, allowing him to add intimidation to his words. "You have gained some worth by your deeds in this land and to the south. Many hail you as a hero and slayer of dragons. But know this…"

Yorick leaned in, eyes narrow and voice like thunder. "All the honor and deeds in the world will never amount to the standards you hold against your soul. Look inward, lest fear and loathing destroy that which you seek to protect."

Yorick turned on his heel and stalked away from the incensed prince, the king's hand the only thing holding him back. Yorick ignored the growls and glares he received for such accusations, a silent command making the Walkers follow.

"Shall we go?"

His answer was silence, the steady cadence of his walk and the eventual shouts of the citizens soon dismissing it. Yorick at least knew his way out of the city, the rooms had provided quite the view after all, but he stood surprised by the time the gates came into view.

None of his escorts were with him.

 _Strange… were my words truly so terrible that they must console the prince and leave a walking taboo alone?_

Yorick scoffed and marched through the gates, a palpable sense of relief appearing shortly thereafter. If the prince required such coddling, Yorick had wasted his words on an unworthy man.

Not fit for an ally in his war.

Yorick did eventually come to a stop and set his Walkers in a perimeter. More souls had come to wail in his ear, so may as well meditate while waiting for his escorts.

Or some random passerby to ask for directions, he didn't mind either case.

Settling onto the earth, Yorick began to focus and slow his breathing when a curious sound met his ears. Looking around, he saw only open fields and a small outcropping of rocks.

 _A child's tears… how long has it been since such a sound reached my ears?_

Too long, if you asked Yorick. His fist act after discovering his powers had been to lay every child of the Isles to rest, no matter what abomination or horror he had to end. Their wails were the most agonizing, such was the despair, that Yorick simply could not leave them alone.

Standing with a sigh, Yorick wandered around while ordering his Walkers to fan out and search. Nothing came of the search for a time before Yorick noticed a shadow in the rocks. Walking over, Yorick leaned down and came face to face with large yellow eyes that streamed tears into a body covered in bandages green with decay. "Who… are you?"

The child's tears intensified, a young boy's sobs reaching Yorick as the bandaged child tried to crawl away. "D-d-don't hurt me! I d-didn't mean to wander here, I swear!"

Yorick hummed and kneeled, a gentle smile rising to his face for the first time in centuries. "Calm yourself, young one. I mean no harm to you, and neither do my friends."

The child blinked before turning to find one of the Walkers peering at him. The child shrieked, tears flying from his face and pelting the Walker.

Which proceeded to screech in agony before melting into rapidly decaying flesh and bone.

 _A curse then, and strong too. It would surprise me little if the boy's skin was toxic as well._

"Be still, child." Yorick whispered, a hand reaching for the boy's arm. "Their appearance may be frightening, but my friends mean you no harm."

The child shied away from Yorick's touch, confirming his earlier thought. "T-T-They won't… hurt me? Will… will they be my friends?"

Yorick sent a message to the Walkers, asking that same question. Most responses ranged from sure to enthusiastic cheers. Young fools, the lot of them.

"Most certainly," Yorick said. "I will even be your friend, should you desire it… Amumu."

Amumu stared at the gravedigger, clearly shocked. "You… you mean it?"

"Your curse cannot harm me." Yorick sighed, gesturing for the boy to stand. "I do not know what deity you angered to earn such a cruel punishment, but its spite cannot overpower the Tears. I will be fine, so long as you do not wish me harm."

Amumu hiccupped and sobbed, tears forming a pool under his feet. "Will… will you play with me?"

Yorick nodded, one of the Walkers reporting horses nearing their position. "My friends and I would be glad to."

"And I'm sure our soon to arrive guests will be more than willing to join in."

 _-Thirty Minutes Later-_

"You are cruel humans to turn the boy down like that."

The Demacians chose not to answer that accusation, Yorick grunting in anger before patting Amumu's head. "Ignore them, child, they fear that which can harm them as any sane being would. Besides, I believe you have many friends now, yes?"

Amumu sniffed, but tears flowed as a Walker presented the mummy with a flower. "T-Thanks, friend."

The Walker barked its answer before scampering away and back into the ground. The flower wilted shortly thereafter, but Yorick could tell that both the mummy and the souls around him were touched by the gesture.

With Amumu too busy trying to process his emotions and the Demacians stoic atop their steeds, Yorick chose then to take in the scenery. As they'd walked, the party had begun to catch sight of strange machines that flew through the air of their own power and Yorick was slowly growing curious.

That, and he'd begun spotting strange gates along the roads in the distance, the Demacians avoiding the black stone arches with all possible enthusiasm. It wouldn't be until nightfall that anyone would answer his questions.

As the fire crackled away and the Demacians ate, Yorick found a flat stretch of earth and began to meditate, the Walkers entertaining Amumu with a variety of games from the various childhoods each ghoul held.

The scrape of boots on the earth called for his attention. "Yes?"

Chords danced through the air, Sona taking a seat across from Yorick. "You wish… to thank me?"

Sona nodded, two more notes ringing in Yorick's ear.

"Do not thank me, musician." Yorick grumbled, baleful eyes going to the game of hide and seek Amumu was engaged in. "I have slain my share of young ones and laid their souls to rest. I simply cannot bare the despair."

Sona frowned at him, discordant notes showing her displeasure.

Yorick shrugged and dug his spade into the earth. "I do what is right, musician, not what is good. These few days I have been on the mainland have been paradise for my conscious and goals have aligned. Are you satisfied yet?"

Sona appeared frustrated and her next notes showed it.

"You thought me friendly?" Yorick asked, incredulous amusement in his voice. "I assume my interactions with the Lady of Luminosity and Amumu made you think so, but no. I am merely a monk who seeks to end the Black Fog, no matter the cost or casualty."

Sona grimaced, sad notes dampening the air.

Yorick sighed and grabbed a handful of dirt. "I do not wish harm, musician, but I will always pursue my goal. Should that mean I end as one with the dirt, then so be it, so long as the souls of my friends and many others may finally pass on. That is all I wish."

He dropped the earth and scratched his beard. "Now then, would you kindly inform me as to what those strange machines I saw in the air are? Even when the Isles were alive, I'd never seen such things."

Sona's face relaxed, glad for the change in subject. A soothing tune filled the clearing shortly thereafter, the spirits translating the notes for Yorick.

"Hextech, Chemtech, and others." Yorick snorted when the song was done. "Truly, man will always be obsessed with machines. I'd heard of trying to harness magic into metal for labor, but nothing of such a grand scale."

Sona smiled and shrugged, clearly agreeing with him.

Yorick shook his head and waved a dismissal. "I have no further questions. Return to your fellows, lest Lucian think I've enthralled you."

Sona's notes sounded… exasperated.

Yorick sighed and held up his hands, face set in a scowl as he looked back to find Lucian pointing a Lightcaster at him. "She still holds her will, Sentinel. I would not tell her to return to you if she didn't."

"Likely story," Lucian grunted. "But I've fallen for that before. Got the scars to prove it."

Yorick could see Garen and Lux making their way over, hopefully to diffuse this tension rather than escalate it, but better to keep the vengeful soul distracted. "I am not of the spirits you purify. It is only the Tears that allow me to live, not necromancy or the Mist."

Lucian's pistol began to glow. "I've heard that before too. The smart ones try to hide from me, but I always see through it."

Yorick snorted. "Then see the Tears I hold. You should notice the difference, seer."

He reached into his tunic and held up the Tears, their light filling the darkness. Lucian stared at the Tears with hard disbelief before shock flashed across his face. "Impossible… there were only stories…"

Yorick grunted and returned the Tears to their resting place. "They are as real as you. My order was amongst the few on the Isles that held the Well's water and I was the only one to hold on to it when the Mist came. Ever since, I have ignored the whispers to take the Tears from my throat."

Lucian's gun dropped lower. "But you were of the Isles and use corpses! How are you any different from those monsters!"

Yorick sighed, looking up to stare at a broken soul. "I have always heard the dead. Even when I was a child, souls whispered to me. Every wail of pain has followed me since the first day, and I seek to relieve it. If only so the wailing may stop."

He looked away as Garen stepped forward and gripped Lucian's shoulder. "I have been fighting the monsters of the Isles far longer than you, Lightslinger. Many times I have come close to slaying them, whether it be Mordekaiser, Hecarim, or Thresh."

Yorick gripped his spade. "Yet, still I failed. If one must be blamed for the suffering of countless souls, then lay it at my feet. It will not stop my quest, but what is one more sin to my soul?"

The area was quiet save for the playing of Amumu and the Walkers. Garen took that as a sign to escort Lucian away while Lux continued to stare. "…You really have gone through a lot."

Sona played some sad notes, making Yorick nod. "I don't think any who would wear the title of Champion hasn't. After all… power has its price, and it must always be paid."

"So, you actually want to be a Champion." Lux muttered, remembering that long explanation a couple days ago. "Why?"

Yorick shrugged and folded his legs.

"I will pay any price, you know this. If it must be in service of these mages, then so be it."

 _-Morning-_

The rest of the night passed without incident, Yorick and his escorts setting out right as dawn broke. Amumu was more than glad to keep following them, but Lux had eventually grown curious enough to ask why Amumu was still crying when he'd found friends.

It was anyone's guess really, but they eventually decided that Amumu had to find someone very specific in order to break the curse. It wasn't the best news for the mummy, but even the small sparks of joy he had received were worth more than anything.

Beyond that, the party entered a long stretch of marshes where the sweet smell of rot and the howls of beasts were constant. Garen, a frequent traveler through these marshes, gave the explanations this time, though it seemed to Yorick that his eyes were constantly tracking every shadow. It was like he was searching for someone and it left him more curt than usual.

Though it appeared the others were more amused by his curtness than anything. Even Amumu chuckled when a shadow made Garen flinch.

Regardless of that, the trip through the marsh passed with only a few fool-hardy beast attacks. Once the Walkers were made and the sticky ground left behind, Yorick found himself looking down on a large city leading up to a cave where a blue and red glow shone right even in the sun.

It was strange to stare at the city, as the architecture followed no single philosophy. Some looked Demacian in origin, some were far more austere and dark, yet others were built out of what Yorick believed were gears and the last set were either in the shape of ships or glowed with an acidic green light.

"I assume this is the place." He mused. "Where else would so many disparate cultures ever hope to coexist?"

Garen's apprehension only deepened. "Be wary when we enter. It's likely they've already seen you by now and every faction will be…curious."

"More like dying to meet you." Lux snarked, laughing at her own pun. "But yeah, be prepared to get a lot of stares and whispers."

Yorick grunted and set down the road, the others scrambling after him. "I'm long used to them after these last few days. All I care about is that we meet the League as soon as possible."

The others followed behind him, though Lux eventually overtook him and rode ahead, calling that she'd make sure the summoners would be expecting them. Yorick only grunted, but soon found himself in the midst of a makeshift corridor as the city's crowds parted for their procession.

As he'd been warned, whispers and stares were everywhere, from the humans to the yordles and back again. A few of these individuals caught his eye as he passed, from a woman with truly monstrous gauntlets and a yordle with impressive blonde hair to a man in dark steel and a large axe that traded glares with Garen.

Oh, and a beastman with a collection of teeth around his neck and a glowing yellow eyepatch that was stalking towards him.

"You… are a hunter." Yorick muttered before the beastman could open his maw. "The souls of much prey follow you like a god."

The beastman paused before a savage grin pulled at his face. "You're even more interesting then your appearance belies, prey. I knew something that reeked of death would be interesting."

"Stand aside, Rengar." Garen grunted. "We are expected by the summoners, and we both know what happens if we're late."

Rengar kept his smile, but stepped aside just enough to allow passage, his eyes tracking Yorick's every move. Yorick took one extra step as he walked by, Rengar glancing down at the sign to find the Walkers with maws wrapped around his legs and ready to hamstring him.

Rengar felt respect bloom in his chest. "Clever…"

The Walkers retreated, and the mutters redoubled, the site of the ghouls and Lucian doing nothing shocking many. Yorick did note that the further they went into the city, the more antsy both Garen and Sona became, as if they were expecting an ambush.

He also spotted more unique individuals, or Champions more likely. A pale woman with dark wings standing in an alley, a man covered in armor with a large shield, a young girl with tattered clothes holding a bear, and a large golem of bronze metal standing next to a being of viscous slime.

Those were the more interesting sights before he found himself before a long stairway leading up to an equally large building of many columns with several people in robes scurrying about. Three stood at the top of the stairs, which made Yorick groan.

Damn symbolism.

Regardless, he waited for his escorts to dismount before allowing them to lead him up the stairs. Deciding to make a point, Yorick brazenly took Amumu's hand and, to much shock, showed no sign of damage.

Everyone knew that he was not normal now, especially when his Walkers began to burst from the earth and scramble up the stairs behind him like a train of ghoulish flesh.

Yorick had to keep a smirk off his face as many of the robed beings had swiftly made way for him and his escorts, the spirits of this place agitated enough to make their presence felt.

"We welcome you, Father Yorick." The front-most being answered, Lux standing to the side. "Luxanna Crownguard has already informed us of your purpose."

Yorick's spade cracked against the stone, his height letting him tower over the human. "Then do you have that which I seek? Even you, who has the power of necromancy in your studies, can see why the Mist must be destroyed."

The woman, for that was the voice the being held, sounded exasperated and apologetic in equal measure. "Then you can hear the spirits, as most who must learn summoning do. Also, we all quite agree that the abominations of the Shadow Isles must fall, but as of this point there is simply no way for us to know what lies there and what may counter it."

Yorick growled, not willing to accept such a pathetic ending to his quest. "I have more intimate knowledge of the Isles than any dare claim. If all you require is the knowledge to choose your weapons, I will give it."

The three summoners formed a huddle, whispered discussion and glances all they gave. Yorick slowly grew frustrated as the discussion dragged on, but he was saved from shouting by the appearance of another, unique individual.

"Soooonnnaaaa ̴!"

Yorick glanced over to see Sona growing pale at the voice while everyone else let out sighs of exasperated amusement. Yorick had a moment to ponder on that before a white-red blur slammed into Sona and tackled her to the ground.

"Sona, I missed you! Did you miss me while you were gone? Come on, don't be shy!"

Yorick heard Sona give off a few embarrassed notes before a discordant chord made the attacker jump up from snuggling her. Now that Yorick had a better look, the attacker was another woman dressed in a short dress of white and red that showed off her perfect form. The long black hair would've made her a perfect vision of beauty if the eyes were not drawn to her many white tails, matching fox ears, and slit amber eyes.

"A vampire." Yorick grumbled. "Though not a willing one, as she is. Who'd have thought that consuming life essence would make a demon become human?"

The woman finally realized she had an audience. "Oh… you're the new guy. Hmm… tall, dark, glowing in the dim… not quite my type, especially with that goatee."

Yorick shrugged. "Your type is none of my concern, succubus. Be glad you have at least one soul vouching for you, else I'd be obligated to end you."

Sona's eyes widened and she played several alarmed notes. The woman also looked surprised, though her's was more muted. "Oh, you're like Vayne then. Wonderful, another dour personality."

Yorick smirked. "Live amongst the dead for a few centuries, see if your sense of joy remains. Regardless, how do you know Lady Buvelle? Call me bored as the summoners converse."

The woman eyed him head to toe before smirking and pulling Sona into a one-armed hug. "We're besties! I met Sona a little while after I joined the League and darn if it hasn't been great."

She poked Sona's arm. "That doesn't mean I don't miss you when you go back home. Most of these guys don't know how to have fun, even if it slapped them."

Yorick raised a brow, watching Sona's face flush an interesting shade of crimson. "…I see. I do not have your name, Ms…?"

"Ahri," she answered. "I'm a former succubus, but I've turned over a new leaf. I've been working with the summoners to help me lose that particular trait. Frankly, I just want to be my normal smokin' self."

Yorick frowned, noting that Sona had grown continually redder until she was nearly puce. "Very well… I shall leave you two to whatever it is… your definition of fun is."

Ahri's smirk was downright dastardly, the fox-woman bidding him farewell before dragging Sona away, whispering sin into the other woman's ear the whole way.

"Ahri's a fun one." Lux commented, Yorick barely holding in his surprise. He'd almost forgotten she was there. "Drags Sona away to do all kinds of kinky stuff if you believe the rumors."

Yorick stared at her, incredulous. "You listen to gossip about their sex lives? Have you nothing better to do?"

"It gets boring sitting around waiting for assignments." Lux countered. "Besides, those two have been an item for almost three years now. The speculation now is if they'll go public or just keep things as is."

Yorick couldn't believe he was standing here, so close to the center of all magical knowledge in Valoran, and gossiping! What were they, housewives?

The sound of steel on steel drew their attention, Lux popping her lips. "Hey, Lucian, did Katarina show up?"

Lucian grunted from further down the stairs, eyes tracking a pair of duelists. "Yep, planted a sloppy one right on his cheek when he wasn't looking."

Lux hummed in response, but Yorick was more concerned with Garen and a woman with long red hair dueling upon the stairs. By the looks of it, they knew each other's moves very well, and both wore looks of concentration that marked them as longtime rivals.

Well, if it wasn't for the woman's smirk and Garen sporting a scowling blush.

Yorick couldn't believe his eyes, so stoic had the man been.

Lucian sighed and climbed the steps into the Institute, nodding his respect to the three summoners who'd finished discussing, but were also watching the duel.

"That's Katarina Du Couteau." Lux began, answering Yorick's unasked question. "She's a Noxian assassin that's been fighting with Garen since they first joined the military. Crossed blades in both of the last wars and in several skirmishes along with who knows how many times on the Fields of Justice."

Yorick hummed, feeling slightly disappointed. Amumu had long gone inside to spread the news that he'd made a friend and his Walkers were sulking because they'd been upstaged.

What a way to ruin a grand entrance.

A moment later, the duel started moving up the stairs and Yorick could hear them exchanging… colorful taunts. "By the gods, they're flirting."

"Fighting, flirting, and fucking." Lux chirped, uncaring of the profanity. "That's no secret here. If anything, just between you and me, Prince Jarvan and Swain have had _very_ tense discussions about betrothing the two as grounds for a lasting peace treaty. Woo boy those are fun to sit on."

Yorick had no idea who this Swain was, but he watched as a strange creature with a spiked shell waddled their way up the stairs and between the fight, both duelists stopping and politely allowing them to pass before resuming.

"And… that was?"

Lux chuckled awkwardly. "That's Rammus… blunt guy, but not one you want to fight up close. That shell ain't for show."

Yorick sighed and turned back to the summoners. "May we move on please? This gong show has gone on long enough."

The lead summoner cleared their throat. "Yes, quite. Father Yorick, we are willing to help you in exchange for both your knowledge and availability on the Fields of Justice. A full explanation will be given later, but we regret to inform you that your ghouls will not be able to wander as they please."

Yorick snarled, but sent the Walkers back to the street, the ghouls burrowing into the earth. "They shall remain dormant unless called. Does that satisfy you?"

The summoner nodded. "Yes, that's perfect. Beyond that, we'll have one of the others guide you around the Institute and assign you a personal room. Beyond that, you'll be given full access to all wings as a dedicated neutral besides the restricted areas."

Yorick grunted, the spirits telling him what the summoner would not. "I will not deal in Void creatures or demons, summoner. Simply keep the horrors away from me and there will be peace."

The summoner nodded. "Very well then."

"Welcome to the League, Father Yorick. We look forward to working with you."

 **I'll end it there, good spot if you ask me.**

 **It's a lot shorter this time, but there's a lot of champions yet to see. Hope everyone enjoys the chapter and I'll see you next time!**

 **(Also, thank you to everyone who's fav'd followed and reviewed, I really appreciate it!)**


	3. Neutral's Meeting

**Alright, new chapter, let's do this thing!**

 _Neutral's Meeting_

It was a simple apprentice that gave Yorick the grand tour.

The young summoner pointed out the various sights and parts of the Institute with an ease born of practice, the spirits telling Yorick that the apprentices were assigned tours for visiting dignitaries and had everything memorized.

In total, the Institute had several wings and smaller complexes that housed the various offices, residences, and things of that nature. Each wing was given to one of the recognized city states, with the central building housing both neutral and bound Champions.

Thus, when the tour was done, Yorick found himself in one such room. Well, rooms, considering it had a main room, bedroom, and bathing area. Add on all the various silks, furniture, ornaments, and lights… well, it was very luxurious.

Yorick held in a sigh as he finished observing the room. The Walkers had gone into a dormant sleep on Yorick's command, the gravedigger unwilling to deal with their extra bulk in this place. It would be bad enough trying to get to the archives without the ghouls accosting random people.

"This will be a long day." He said to himself. "I may have little in the way of belongings, but there will doubtlessly be those curious enough to force entry. Maiden, heed my call."

The specter rasped into existence, it's presence darkening the room. **"** ** _Yes… our secrets must remain safe… I will guard this room when you have left, but my voice follows you always…"_**

"As ever," Yorick said, spade cracking against the tile. "You will know if anything attempts to enter within eighty meters of this place, incapacitate any that breach the borders of the room. I will deal with the trespassers personally upon my return."

The maiden let out a ghastly chuckle before fading into the shadows. Yorick could still feel her presence, so he was content to leave the room and start for the Archives.

Unsurprisingly, he was stopped shortly after remembering to lock his door. "You the new guy?"

Yorick sighed and turned to find the being of slime he'd seen earlier that day. "If you mean I am new to the Institute, then yes. You are?"

The slime shrugged. "Name's Zac, I'm from Zaun. Guessing you're a Shadow Isles guy based on the pale skin and the glow. Lot saner though if you're staying with the rest of us."

Yorick saw little point in this dialogue. "What do you require, creation? If it is simple curiosity, then I would prefer you consider it sated and leave me be. I have other business."

"Some of the others wanted to meet you." Zac drawled, form rippling as he moved. "Got a little meet and greet going in the main courtyard, get you some people that won't try and use ya for politics."

Yorick stroked his beard. Allies were always a good place to start, and the champions here were known to be among the strongest individuals in the world. If he could impress the importance of his work onto some of them, then his goal would be ever closer. If only he didn't have to use nearly non-existent social skills to do it.

"…Very well, Zac. If it will mean less interruptions, I do not mind."

Zac grinned, his form stretching as he began to walk. "Follow me. Should be an interesting time, especially if you've got any stories to share."

Yorick sighed and followed the slime, ignoring the various summoners and other normal humans going about their business. The hall was nothing special, they all looked splendorous and master-crafted, but Yorick hummed as they entered the courtyard.

A large tree took up the center of the courtyard, several tables and benches scattered about. One set was concentrated under the large tree, a strange gathering taking refuge from the crystalline light that filled the air.

One was a truly grand being of crystal and stone, its carapace shining purple and blue. A scorpion, nearly ageless in both soul and body, but possessed of a deep sadness that Yorick knew well. A lone survivor.

Another was the Rammus creature that had passed Yorick earlier that day, the shell just as intimidating from this distance as up close even as Rammus silently sipped a cup.

Yet another was a great titan of steel and dark magic, its form holding an anchor equally as large and terrifying. It too held a spark of melancholy and felt of something just as ancient as the scorpion.

The next was much smaller, a woman in fact. Her hair was long and flowing in an ephemeral breeze, the power of wind surrounding her form as a cloak. She wore little beyond a white top, leggings, gloves, and a strange skirt with orange crystals. How strange to meet a storm spirit.

The last though, Yorick knew well. They'd been working alongside, if not in concert with, each other for centuries.

"Maokai," Yorick rumbled as the treant turned to him. "So, this is where you disappeared to."

The treant stood and rumbled towards him, a manic cackle and a twisted grin Maokai's response. Once closer, the treant smacked Yorick's shoulder. "That it is, monk, that it is. I'm not sure how I came to be in these lands, but I assume you're here for the same reason I am."

Yorick shrugged and smacked the treant in turn. "More or less. I had heard your name mentioned on the way here, but I wasn't sure it was you."

Maokai cackled and started guiding Yorick to the others. "Well, you'll be happy to know this lot understand the threat we fight and have offered their aid. That is, if the summoners can ever finish digging through their tomes."

"Malphite couldn't come." Zac drawled as he followed. "Got called into a match right as I offered. May as well get the introductions out of the way before we talk."

Yorick took the seat Maokai offered and looked to the scorpion. "You… are an ancient, wise one. You were old long before the isles ever formed. I am… humbled, to be in your presence."

The scorpion's carapace clicked as it shifted. "Then you hear spirits too, walker. I am Skarner, of the brackern race, and I have heard tell of your plight from Maokai. My people's plight is my foremost engagement, but I have been promised the return of their life crystals in exchange for this aid."

His claws snipped and snapped. "The people no longer need the magic of our lives to sustain theirs, I have seen as much. If this labor brings my people back to me, then my support is yours."

Yorick respected that. "I welcome it, great brackern. If it is of any comfort, the souls of the truly departed speak highly of you and have explained the details of your race to me. Honored does not begin to describe how I feel, or how your ancestors revere you."

Skarner stared down at Yorick, nodding a moment later. "Flattery will give you nothing, but I thank you for the words."

Yorick huffed before looking to the next giant. "You… are also an ancient presence, but in the body of something more recent."

The titan rumbled, the voice that came out warped as if spoken through deep water. "I am Nautilus, and I see to it the tithe is paid to the sea goddess. I know nothing of what I once was, so do not ask of it or offer council. I am not seeking such answers."

Yorick could respect that. "Then what makes you offer aid? Surely your work is more important."

Nautilus shifted, his metal frame creaking. "The curse of undeath is an insult and antithesis to the goddess. The undead cannot pay the tithe, and she will not be robbed of her tribute. As such, I gladly join those seeking its destruction."

Yorick nodded. "Very well, great titan. Your assistance will be most valuable."

Rammus had finished his cup and began to waddle away. Yorick's words made him stop. "You are an existence of few words, I respect that, and I assume your support comes because you do not wish to deal with undeath in your home?"

"Yup."

Yorick smirked. "Then go about your business, wanderer. May your shell be ever strong and your spines forever sharp."

Rammus turned and stared at Yorick, face set in stone, before nodding. "…Ok."

With that, he left, the woman the last person to speak. "I am Janna, and I protect the vulnerable of Zaun. The Black Mist has destroyed many lives, and I receive many pleas to end it every day. If you shall destroy it, then I will assist and fulfill their wishes."

Yorick hummed, at least glad everyone was blunt enough to not offer honeyed words. "I understand, storm spirit, just know that it will take much more than a gale to blow away the mist. Were it that easy, Maokai would have seen to its destruction long ago."

Janna laughed. "I assure you, I'm quite aware. Though, as you are one who speaks with spirits of the dead, and I am a nature spirit, what do you know of the world that I do not?"

That was an odd question. "I… do not understand."

Janna stood, a breeze lifting her into the air. "I see the world as the wind does, such is my nature. I have no knowledge of death save it is when one ceases to live. You though… there is knowledge of life beyond death within. If you find the time, I would like to hear of this. It may give me… something."

With that vague answer, Janna excused herself and floated away. With the gathering at an unofficial end, Skarner and Nautilus went their separate ways while Maokai promised to bring Kalista later for a meeting.

That left Zac and Yorick, the slime clearly exasperated. "Go to all that trouble and no one sticks around longer than introductions. Swear this lot wouldn't know a good time if it slapped them.

Yorick chuckled darkly. "They are determined and focused, no time for frivolity like that vampire and Lady Buvelle. They'll need all that and more to stand upon the isles and retain their minds."

Zac glowered at Yorick. "You are not the most fun to be around. Here I though at least someone from the Isles wouldn't be dour… and sane to boot."

Yorick shook his head and began to walk. "I do not mince words, creation. It is a waste of both time and respect to dance around an issue, especially when only the worthy will answer the call."

Zac said nothing further, so Yorick took his leave. It was exhausting having to deal with so many individuals and he'd yet to even make it to the archives. In fact, as he entered the main hall, it was clear that he still had a ways to go.

A giggle next to his foot made Yorick whirl around and kick, a furry object with some kind of hat flying into the distance as Yorick punted it. He hadn't expected to be so spooked, but that giggle had sounded evil.

Another cackle made Yorick whip around, only to meet a large wolf covered in metal and green canisters. "No one's been able to punt Teemo that far in ages. I'd call that goal."

Yorick glanced back to find a small figure sliding off a crystal, a gaggle of apprentices gathered beneath to catch the body. Yorick didn't know why, but that shape rubbed him the wrong way.

"You'll be interesting to fight." The wolf snarled, his fanged grin dripping with bloodlust. "New bodies always answer to their crimes, no matter how old the blood is. Your murdered souls will find justice with my claws!"

A contraption of steel sprang out, burning metal claws shooting forward and stopping just before Yorick's eye.

He didn't even twitch. "I will welcome your claws, one called Warwick. Mayhaps we can end each other's suffering… were it not for the mages piecing your mind back together."

Warwick growled before turning and stalking away. Yorick rolled his eyes and crossed the main hall, another grandiose corridor leading him past two wings before he stopped. The pair of doors were large enough to admit all possible knowledge seekers, the wood glowing with runes, circles, and magic.

The doors parted as Yorick attempted to decipher one rune that caught his interest, a man with blue skin and a woman with a strange symbol on her back walking out. The man spoke first. "The new champion, Yorick. What brings a gravedigger to the halls of knowledge?"

The woman's voice was far calmer. "Ryze, you know the rules. All may seek the knowledge within these halls, no matter the reason. It is rude to pry into a new arrival's purpose without at least a greeting."

The man grunted. "And you know my rules. All must know that only I and those I choose can search for the world runes, any search beyond that is forbidden. Thus, I must know if that is what he seeks."

Yorick grunted and straightened, towering over the smaller man. "I do not seek to destroy the world, rune mage. The only reason I could ever have to seek such runes were if it could destroy the Mist, and I have it on good authority that no such rune exists."

Ryze stared right back, unintimidated. "Few are the ones who could make such a claim, and even my knowledge is incomplete. I'll be watching you, gravedigger, and know that the consequences will be dire should I find you speaking falsehoods."

Yorick dismissed him with a snort, the mage leaving with a scowl. The woman, instead, gave him a shallow bow. "I apologize for my colleague's rudeness, but he has good reason for his suspicion. Too many seek that power and it will lead all to ruin."

"The world will die eventually." Yorick sighed, stooping once more. "It will likely not be today, or tomorrow, or even in the next millennium. But… all things fade, and they must be allowed to lest something terrible come of it."

The woman frowned, but not in derision. She was honestly considering his words. "That is a fatalistic viewpoint, I admit, but such is the cycle of life. Even the Spirit instructs us to allow that which is dying to pass, if only to ease its suffering."

She smiled. "Forgive me, my name is Karma. Or, that is how I am known amongst the people, but it shall serve here. If I may ask, why have you come to the archives? Few besides the studious come here on any given day."

"I have come to begin my search." Yorick said. "The summoners have given me a few tomes and scrolls to glance over, but I seek deeper knowledge."

Karma hummed. "Then there is no better place to find it than here. Go and ask Nasus what you seek, he knows these halls better than anyone. You'll know him when you see him."

She began to walk away but paused. "Actually… I extend this invitation to all champions that join, so long as they're sane, and I do the same to you. I meditate with several of my fellows in the Ionian wing of the Institute every morning, and you are welcome to join us."

Yorick grunted and entered the archives, seeing through the well meaning offer. Aye, she did wish to socialize with new arrivals, but everyone played politics, even spirits. To attend would only hinder his work, no matter the potential allies.

His thoughts ground to a halt as he beheld the archives. Shelves upon shelves reached meters into the air, countless tomes, scrolls, and tablets littering every possible spot. Crystals filled the great theater with bright light, illuminating the many benches scattered across the marble floor and their contents.

Shaking his head, Yorick strode through the aisles with the center of the theater his destination. A great desk stood in the lone island of calm that was the center of the archives, the wood ancient and far too large for any normal being.

The large jackal-headed being sitting at said desk marked who it was made for. "What is your business in this hall of knowledge?"

Yorick stared at him, not used to looking up at others. "I seek what the League holds on the Isles. I cannot advise if I do not know what they are already aware of."

The jackal huffed and stood. "That's what I thought you'd say. The summoners have given you permission to access the forbidden section, but I am to accompany you at all times. The last thing we need is you thinking some exotic artifact is key to your issues."

Yorick hummed and gestured for the Ascended to guide him, the spirits giving him what he needed. "I am sure the great curator of Shurima will be of great aid. After all, it is the sun's duty to burn away the darkness."

Yorick knew it was a low blow, but he smirked at Nasus's growl. Sometimes, the smart ones needed to be reminded they weren't so above others as to be spared such insults.

"Follow me, shade."

Yorick had a feeling he'd earned no sympathy with the ascended being, but he did not care. Knowledge and purpose were his reasons to be here, not make friends.

Friends were always the first to die on the Isles. It was simply how things worked.

And Yorick had no intention of repeating his first mistakes.

 _Ch. End_

 **Kind of on the short side, but I'm mostly doing champion interactions. Honestly, with so many champions, I really can't fit them all within the context of this story. After all, I plan on calling it done when Yorick first heads to the Rift, so we'll see how much I can fit in the gap.**

 **Hope everyone enjoys!**


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